Healing
by Jenny70529
Summary: Sequel to Betrayal, Shadows, Denial, Jealousy, and Remorse. Nick and Sara, Greg and Sara, Greg and Angelle. Total chaotic mess.
1. Fresh Start

_Author's Notes: Well, here's a new installment in this long series. I need a name for it. Emmithar, care to do the honors:P_

_The Previous stories are as follows (you can find them listed on my profile page):_

_1) Remorse_

_2) Jealousy_

_3) Denial_

_4) Shadows _

_5) Betrayal_

_Let me know if you're still reading. _

_Jenny_

**Healing:**

Chapter One:

"So you're telling me that you and Nick are both down with the flu and can't come in tonight?" Grissom asked skeptically, "Do you really expect me to believe that?"

Sara coughed unconvincingly, suppressing a giggle as Nick buried his face into the couch cushions as he began to laugh, "If you really want us, we can come in, but we've both been puking all day, we may compromise a crime scene."

"But it's Greg's first night back." Grissom replied, "I would have thought you, of all people, would want to be a part of his welcome back."

With a sigh, Sara replied in what she hoped was a concerned voice, "Oh, I didn't even realize that was tonight. Give him our regrets. We should be feeling better tomorrow, I'll let you know."

She hung up before he could make another argument, and burst into laughter, "He knows we're both damn liars."

"You're the worst liar I've ever seen. Next time, I get to call...he might have believed me." Nick teased, growing more serious as he pulled her into his arms, "What are you going to do tomorrow, the next day? You can't avoid Greg forever."

Sara was silent for a few moments, before flashing Nick an embarrassed smile, "Find a new job?"

"It won't be that bad." Nick consoled, "Maybe a bit awkward, but if you talk to Grissom, he would probably keep the two of you separate."

Sara shook her head, "I don't want that. I don't know...I'm not sure exactly what I want. I'm not ready to see him, though, that's for sure."

"Sara, it's been 3 months, surely you aren't still hung up on the baby thing?" Nick chided, "You can't change the past, you just need to work on the future. I hate to see you so upset over something you can't change."

"I just can't believe he'd sleep with her." Sara pouted, leaning against the couch cushions as she brought her feet to rest on Nick's lap.

Nick sighed, patting her feet gently, "We all hate her, Sara, but Greg's a grown man. Catherine warned him about her, it's up to him to take the next step. We can't hold his hand through this, no matter how much we want to."

"I just hate to see him get hurt." Sara replied quietly, "Or worse...he's already been through so much."

Nick nodded with a sigh, "I know, Sara, believe me, I worry too...but you're almost obsessed with both Greg and Angelle, and you have no idea how unhealthy that is." He stood, letting her feet fall as he held out his hand, "What you need, is a distraction. Let's go get some dinner, then we'll head to a movie or something. We finally both have a night off together, let's make it memorable."

--

Greg nervously walked into the break room, spinning his pen on the table as he waited for the others, namely Sara, to arrive. He knew he was early, nearly half an hour, but he was hoping that his workaholic ex-girlfriend was still as dedicated as she was the last time they worked together. He had been disappointed to not see her car when he arrived, but he was still holding on to hope that she'd show up before the rest of his coworkers.

He was surprised to see Grissom's face first...normally their supervisor waited until the last possible moment before joining the group...and with a weak smile, he greeted the older man.

"Good to have you back, Greg. It's going to be a busy night, Nick and Sara are out with the flu, and Catherine's staying home with Lyle, he's got some sort of respiratory infection. Warrick's on his way, though." Grissom offered, pouring himself a cup of coffee as he sat opposite of the younger man, "Sara and Nick wanted me to let you know they're sorry to miss your first night back."

Disappointment filled Greg's heart as he heard Sara wouldn't be making it in to work, but he managed another small smile for his supervisor, "What do we have in so far?"

"We've had a few B&Es, but none that need our help yet. Days were swamped, half their team are pulling doubles." Grissom replied, "Are you sure you're ready to jump back into the swing of things?"

"I'm positive." Greg replied, "I was nervous at first, but I'm ready now."

"Greg! Welcome back!" Warrick greeted as he walked into the door, his hair disheveled, "Where's everyone else?"

"We're it." Greg offered, looking up towards the doorway, "Nick and Sara are out sick."

"So that's why you sounded so upset when Catherine called in." Warrick commented towards Grissom with a knowing nod, "Sorry man."

Grissom shrugged, "You can't control your health. I hope Lyle starts feeling better soon."

Rubbing his tired eyes, Warrick nodded in agreement, "So do I, he's been one miserable little boy."

Grissom's pager went off, and he motioned towards both Greg and Warrick, "419, the Venetian. Brass will meet you there."

"And so it begins." Warrick commented to Greg as they moved towards the doorway, "Welcome back, nothing like a 419 to christen your first night back."

--

"Are you serious? You've got to be freaking kidding." Alcide Arceneaux questioned, "I know you ain't stupid enough to let the man work to the place where his ex works."

Angelle sighed, balancing the phone on her ear, "Alcide, it's not like that. I have to convince him that I'm on his side, that I want what's best for him."

"Girl, I didn't raise no fool." Alcide spoke harshly, "He's a target, nothing more." He paused with a rattling sigh, "You fallin' fo' him, ain't you?"

Angelle moaned, falling onto the couch, "I don't know Alcide...I like him, I do, I feel bad about hurting him. He's a good kid."

"He's a good kid with a good savings account." he replied harshly, his thick Southern accent causing his words to run together, "You got him convinced you in the family way?"

"Of course, Alcide! I've done this before, and he's so innocent...it didn't take much convincing." Angelle sighed, "I hate to take advantage of such a good kid."

Alcide cleared his throat, speaking in his heavy, raspy voice, "Mon Cher, remember where you come from, who you loyal to. Those ain't your people, your people are back here. Don't go gettin' attached to those West Coast folk. You come back to your home once the job is done."

"Alright, alright. I know there's a job to be done, and I'm working on it. He must have built up some sort of resistance to the tea, because the Jimson Weed isn't working anymore. I'm going to start on something new when he gets home tonight." Angelle relented, "Don't worry about it. I'll get it taken care of."

"C'est Bon. Au Revoir, mon cher."

"Au Revoir, Nonc Alcide."

Angelle hung up the phone, sighing heavily as she pressed it to her heart. She was faced with a tough decision...should she remain loyal to her family or to the man she was possibly falling in love with? With tear-filled eyes, she flipped the stereo on. Hopefully the answer would reside somewhere in the multitude of country lyrics blasting through the speakers.

--

"This is going to be a madhouse." Warrick muttered, making his way to the restaurant in the Venetian, "Who shoots someone in the middle of a crowded restaurant? In a casino?"

"Someone with nothing to lose?" Greg asked dryly, "We'll be interviewing people for hours."

Warrick sighed heavily, "Let's get cracking, then. I'll take the casino side, you take the window side."

Greg nodded, shifting his kit to his opposite hand as he made his way towards a few officers, who were talking to a couple near the doorway.

As he got close enough to recognize their familiar faces, his heart fell into his stomach. Giving her statement was none other than the same woman who had been occupying his every thought since their last meeting three months ago.

Her name flowed off his lips in a short breath, causing not only her, but Nick and the two officers as well, to glance in his direction.

"Greg."

"Sara."

_TBC_


	2. Rain

_Author's Notes: Wow, this took a long time to get up. Mucho thanks to Emmithar, for taking the initiative to push me to write, and prompt me with her own **words** and **wisdom**. This one's for you, girl._

_Jenny_

**Chapter Two:**

He shouldn't have left. He knew Grissom had been counting on him to do his job and get the scene taken care of, but seeing _them_ together had been too hard to deal with.

He couldn't believe she had lied to him. Over and over again, since the first days they had been dating, he had suspected she had feelings for Nick, but she had always denied the accusations, telling him that Nick was too much like a brother to her for her to ever consider him as a candidate for romance.

Had she started shacking up with him the moment he had left town? That in itself would explain so much of her behavior, her defensive position over the relationship he had always known the two of them had. Or had they been together even longer? Was her feelings for Nick the reason she had been so easily withdrawn at the start of their relationship? Or was she forced into Nick's waiting arms the moment he had ran out on her?

His aching heart matched his throbbing head as he stared up at the black desert sky, the sparkling stars hidden by dark clouds. This wasn't what he had expected for his first night back on the job. Since agreeing to return to his position with the crime lab, his only thoughts had been on the brunette he never seemed to be able to get enough of.

He trusted Angelle with his life, she was a great person and a wonderful friend, but she was very difficult to live with. She had managed to alienate him from his so-called family at the crime lab, although he wasn't sure now if that was a blessing or a curse. If he had known Sara and Nick had started dating, he probably wouldn't have wanted to go back to the lab...he would have probably moved back to Houston where Angelle was convinced they belonged.

Angelle was convinced that any woman in his life couldn't possibly be good enough for him, including, but not limited to, Sara. She had set him up on a pedastool where only the most elite could be "worthy" of Greg's time and love, setting everyone up to fail. It was annoying, to say the least, but he had found it odd that she cared so much. With an irritated sigh, he dimly realized that she had been right. Sara wasn't right for him.

He could already hear Angelle's snide comments about the brunette CSI, the simple "I told you so" once he shared the details of his night with his southern belle. What else had Angelle been right about, besides the Sara fiasco? Should he have taken her advice to go back to Houston right after he had been released from the hospital? Should he have listened to her when she pleaded with him to take her back to their home, to their friends? Was it a mistake to come back to Vegas, to try to make amends, to take his job back?

After all, Sara had been his driving force to stay around. He couldn't resist the slightest possibility of seeing her, talking to her, holding on to their past...now that she was obviously moving on with Nick, of all people, was it even worth it? Why had she even bothered to convince him to come back months ago, tracking him down and pleading for him to return home with her? Hadn't it been enough of an omen to see his old friends' less-than-enthusiastic welcome? He should have hopped on the next plane to Texas and put Vegas behind him.

But Sara had convinced him to stay. She told him she needed him, she missed him, she wanted him. He finally started to feel like he belonged once more. And now she had ripped that away from him as well. Lies, it had all been lies. She had convinced him she would wait for him forever. And she lied.

He ran a hand over his face, sinking against the wall, trying to get himself under control. Somehow he had to walk back in there. Somehow he had to process the scene, interview the suspects, carry on with his job and life. Everyone was counting on him...or were they? What if the only reason he got his job back was due to pity? What if no one really wanted him here at all? How could he distinguish from what was real and what he had been conned into believing was real? Did it even matter anymore?

The lab had been his entire life. For the longest time he felt as though he was a part of something, as though he had a meaning there, a life, a family. He had everything here...and he had lost everything as well. Vegas was a dream city, everyone went there risking everything, and losing most of it in the process. But he...he had lost more than everything. Friends, family, his life...his will to live even. He sank against the wall onto the concrete, hands pressing against his knees as he choked back a quiet job.

He couldn't lose it, not here, not now. He had made a pact with himself that he would not let these issues resurface once more. He had dealt with the past, it was time to face the future. How could he, though, when his past--everything he had lost--kept popping up around every corner? He wanted to run, to pack his things and take the first flight out of town, out of Nevada, out of the country. He wanted to hide behind postcards and lies, to pretend like he didn't care and was happier elsewhere. The truth was, no matter how far he ran, he could never escape. He had tried that once, and failed miserably.

The moment he left Vegas, he had left all his problems in his shadow. At least he had tried. In all actuality, it had been following him far to closely, always within his footsteps, but never really presenting themselves. In Houston it had been easy. There was nothing there that reminded him of his old life, he could pretend she didn't exist, he could drown out his regrets in a bottle of whiskey. Angelle had been there to comfort him, for once in her life listening more than she talked. It was what pulled him through his depression, and for a while, things had been good. Then Sara had entered. How could he love and hate someone so much at the same time?

Part of Greg was thrilled, because truthfully he could not live forever knowing he'd never see her again. But the second she had entered his entire life had gone downhill. He had gotten hurt, and sick. The team was busy trying to accuse the only person who had stood up for him throughout this entire charade, and now his heart was slowly breaking.

The comforting hands on his shoulders pulled him into a hug, and he didn't resist, desperately needing the comfort, the contact. Her skin was warm, even though a light preface of rain had started to show. His lips caught hers, and for a moment it was pure bliss, a warmth in his mind and body he couldn't shake

He reached up, moving away her hair from her face as he leaned into her, the rain now no longer dribbling, but pouring as the warning bells went off in his head. Quickly and suddenly he pulled away, moving to his feet and sprinting a few feet away. He couldn't do this. Not now, not after he had promised himself he'd let her go. How could something that felt so good be so wrong at the same time? He pretended that he couldn't hear Sara as she called his name, her voice begging him to stop.

He didn't dare glance back to see her standing in their spot, her hair clinging to her face and neck as the rain continued to come down. The only image that rested with him now, the only feeling was her warm lips on his, the feeling of being wanted, of being needed. How could he tell if this was something real, embedded within this nest of lies? Was she just stringing him along once more? Why couldn't she just it go? How could she possibly think she could have both of them at the same time? He couldn't fall back into her trap. His heart couldn't take it. His sanity couldn't take it.

He didn't stop, couldn't stop, as he tried to escape his demons, lost somewhere in the rain. Greg hardly acknowledge the squealing tires as he dodged across the road, his lungs burning in his chest as he pushed himself further.

The only clear thought in his mind was that he needed to get away, he needed the space, the time. And when he finally calmed down, finally regained his nerve, he would go back to his place, and start to pack. Then he would Vegas, forever.

--

Feeling cold, wet, and miserable, Sara did her best to stand up to him. Her arms were wrapped around her torso as she shivered, too proud to ask for his dry jacket. "It was nothing," she answered quietly.

"A kiss is nothing?" Nick asked skeptically, frowning as he did so. "You left a crime scene before you were cleared to do so, chased down your old boy friend, made out with him on the street, and now you're going to stand there and tell me it was nothing?"

"It just happened Nicky," Sara groaned inwardly, pushing a wet strand of hair from her face. "I can't help it if Greg can't control his emotions. And I'm only human, I'm going to respond."

"Of course you are," Nick nodded in agreement, "But I was expecting a slap, not french kissing 101."

"What do you want from me?" Sara snapped in response, her teeth chattering slightly, "Greg and I have a...complicated...history. He needed comfort and things got out of hand...there's nothing left to say!"

Nick shook his head angrily, his fists clenched, "It's always going to be about Greg, isn't it? You can't keep stringing me along, I'm not your personal toy to dangle in front of unavailable men, Sara, and I honestly can't believe you'd behave like this!"

"This isn't really the time or place--" Sara hissed, glancing around to see several people staring in her direction, "Can't this wait until we're alone?"

"No!" Nick retorted loudly, "I don't care who's watching us! I need to know, Sara, who's it going to be? Me? The one who's stood by you through this whole ordeal? Or Greg, who runs away at the first available opportunity?"

The air was thick with tension as he stared deeply into her tear-filled eyes. Her answer was a whisper, but with the room's silence it resounded loudly, "Nicky...it's always been Greg."

_TBC_


	3. Heat

_Author's Notes: Yay, a new chapter! I spent two long weeks staring at this story, re-writing the same scene a dozen times before deciding to just start elsewhere. Lol. I have a definite plan now, and I hope to not battle writers block anymore. _

_Thank you for all who are reading, and a special thanks to all who leave me reviews. Please continue to let me know what you think. _

_My beta's away, and when she left, this idea wasn't what we were brainstorming on...so I had no guidance, editing, or anything on this. All mistakes are mine, and I will admit that I only read over it once, so there's probably a few. That's what happens when you write in only an hour. Lol. _

_Thanks for reading, don't forget to bribe me with reviews!_

_Jenny_

**Chapter Three:**

He could feel the tension in the air from the moment he walked in the door. Normally when a pre-shift meeting was called, he could anticipate a twinge of resentment by his team, but this was definitely out of the ordinary.

Grissom paused in the doorway, carefully studying each of his employees before they could notice his presence. Catherine and Warrick sat close to each other on the left side of the table, a sheet of paper resting between them while they whispered quietly, Warrick circling a few lines here and there.

Nick sat at the end of the table, staring straight ahead towards the opposite wall, his shoulders rigid and his hands placed flat on the table. By his posture alone, Grissom could tell he was tense and irritable.

Sara sat on the right side of the table, her hands folded in her lap as she stared at the metallic tabletop, a coffee cup growing colder as it sat in front of her, untouched.

As far away from the brunette as possible sat Greg, who's head was leaned back, enabling him to look at the ceiling in silence. He looked towards the doorway with a slight blush as Grissom made his presence known, but remained silent as Grissom sat at the end of the table.

"I'm sure you know why we're here early." Grissom said calmly, his hands folded over a yellow tablet, "This marks the first time we've all sat together in the last 3 weeks."

He had expected some sort of protest or apology from any of his five CSIs, but received nothing besides a look of appreciation from both Catherine and Warrick. Nick was staring at him, but his expression hadn't changed in the slightest. Greg and Sara both had yet to acknowledge his presence or remark.

"There is obviously a problem here, and we need to get this conflict resolved. I have never been interested in hearing your personal problems, nor do I feel that the workplace is the right place to air your dirty laundry, but we can no longer work under these conditions." Grissom said firmly, pulling his glasses from his pocket to read the notes he had jotted down on his tablet.

"Greg, I understand that returning to work after so long is a very hard transition. I was able to smooth over your disappearance on your first night back, but since then you've refused to work 2 other scenes, one with Sara, one with Nick. Assignments are not suggestions, they are orders. I expect to see you at every scene I give you, no trading, no walking out."

Looking over his glasses at Sara, he continued, "Sara, I don't care what is going on between you and any of your colleagues. When we're working, we're strictly professional. You've used 4 personal days in three weeks, along with 3 sick days. I'm sure you realize that you're _not_ working more than you _are_ working. This is very unlike you, and I have to admit that I'm extremely disappointed in you. I want you _here_ and _on time_ every shift that you are scheduled, unless you're prepared to show a legitimate doctor's excuse as to why you are absent. You guys know I don't like to babysit you, but this is getting ridiculous."

"And Nick..." Grissom sighed, "Your attendance is lacking just as badly as Sara's. The same rules apply to you from this moment forward."

He paused, rubbing his temples, "I don't know what is going on between the three of you, but if you want to keep your jobs, you will resolve this immediately. It is unfair to Warrick, Catherine, and I to work overtime to pick up the slack left behind by three capable CSIs who are too wrapped up in personal issues to do their jobs. When you walk through the glass doors up front, whatever is going on at home stays there. You do _not_ bring that into my office, into the field, into the lab."

He passed a folded sheet of paper to each Nick, Sara, and Greg, "This is the name and number of our new human resources director. You can contact either her or Ecklie if you wish to be transferred to another shift. I wouldn't want to lose any of you, but if that is the only way to get you guys back on track, I won't stand in your way. We have a wonderful department psychologist if you need it."

"A shrink is kinda pushing it, Gris." Nick spoke gruffly, "None of us are crazy."

"You don't have to be crazy to see a psychologist, Nick." Sara snapped in response, "I swear, sometimes you are the most--"

"That's enough!" Grissom demanded, slamming his hand onto the table and causing all 5 of his employees to jump slightly, "Catherine, Warrick, continue with your homicide. Nick, Sara, in my office. Greg--"

"Greg should come too, since he's the cause of all of this crap." Nick snapped, "Well, that and Sara's inability to keep her pants zipped."

"Excuse me!" Sara exclaimed, jumping to her feet, "I _know_ I must have heard that wrong, Stokes!"

"What else do you call it?" Nick snapped, "You act better than the rest of us, but I know the truth! Are you scared everyone else will know how you throw yourself at men just to lure your ex-boyfriend back!"

Sara slammed her fist onto the table, her voice lethally low, "I never threw myself at you, Nick. We were friends, you wanted more. Greg wasn't even _speaking_ to me then!"

"He's not speaking to you now!" Nick yelled, "And you were the one who initiated everything, after you realized that he was having a baby with that backwoods country girl!"

"A baby?" Greg asked, his voice raised slightly, "Who's having a baby?"

Sara spun around, her eyes blazing, "Don't play stupid, Sanders. Angelle told me all about your little bundle of joy!"

"_Enough!_" Grissom's voice boomed, "The three of you in my office, _now_."

The moment his door closed behind them, the argument resumed.

"I honestly don't know what you're talking about." Greg said with wide eyes, "Angelle isn't pregnant, believe me, I'd know. And if she was, it's not mine. We're not even dating."

Sara's arms were folded angrily across her chest as she snapped, "That's not how she tells the story, maybe you and _Angelle_ need to talk."

"Whether she's pregnant or not doesn't change the fact that Sara _used _me. I can't work with her right now, Gris." Nick said urgently, resisting from begging his supervisor to agree with him, "I just can't. I've tried, believe me, I've tried...but it's going to take some time."

"I can't start assigning cases based on who is getting along nicely. I've never assigned cases that way, and I don't plan on starting now." Grissom replied, his voice tight with irritation.

"Bullshit." Sara snapped, "When things were awkward between us, you always made sure we never worked together."

Grissom's eyes narrowed, and he motioned towards his filing cabinet, "I'm your boss, and you _will_ treat me with respect, Sara. One more snide remark and I will write you up."

"If Nick can choose that he doesn't want to work with Sara, I chose the same." Greg responded, "It creates too much tension, makes it too hard to focus on the evidence."

"So this all becomes my fault?" Sara cried out angrily, "This is _not_ my fault, you can't just decide you don't want to work with me! Grissom!"

"Goes running back to the boss just like old times." Greg huffed, "That's about right, for you."

Sara spun to face Greg, her eyes blazing, "Not once have I been ugly to you. I tried to make friends with your horrible girlfriend, I tried to keep your friendship. I loved you, damn it, and now you're going to behave like this! What did I ever do to you?"

"As if you don't know!" Greg snapped, "Spreading lies about my--"

"If you don't believe me, ask her!" Sara yelled, her fists clenched angrily, "Catherine went to talk to you, I met with Angelle. She told me she was pregnant, that it was yours. I don't know why she didn't tell you, unless it was a lie. But don't you dare accuse me of lying!"

"That's enough, from all of you." Grissom said harshly, swallowing a migraine pill dry, "You guys can resolve this on your own time. I will _not_ assign you based on preference, I assign you based on skill. Nick, you've got a B&E solo, Greg and Sara, a homicide at a cabin off of Lake Mead. If I hear from _anyone_ that you two were in the least bit uncivil to each other, you will both be placed on suspension and reassigned to other shifts, if not worse."

Wearing matching scowls, the three took their assignment slips and stormed out of Grissom's office, towards the locker room. With a shift starting off this horribly, it was clear the night would be long and harrowing.

--

The room was silent as Sara and Greg checked the couch for anything out of the ordinary. David had wheeled the body out of the living room moments prior, leaving the CSIs and the evidence alone in the quiet darkness.

"Bindle me." Sara murmured quietly, leaning over to retrieve a tiny scrap of fabric, "Did you bring ALS?"

"In the truck." Greg responded quietly, "I'll go get it."

Sara nodded, holding her flashlight between her teeth as she snapped a few photographs of the floor surrounding the sofa. Photo evidence of blood splatter and pooling was often the coroner's biggest helper in determining how the death occurred. Medicine was a blessing, but as the old saying goes...a picture is worth a thousand words. Her head ached as the heat penetrated her skin, and she vaguely wondered what their vic was doing in a closed, warm cabin in the middle of summer. The air conditioning hadn't been running, and all three ceiling fans were still and dust-covered.

The door opened behind her, and she spoke quietly into the darkness, "At least we don't have to worry about light infiltrating the luminol and ALS tonight."

The muzzle of a 9mm pressed against her head in response, and before Sara could react, the warm breath of a stranger contacted her cheek, whispering coldly, "Make a sound, and I'll blow your head off."

_TBC_


	4. Pulse

_Author's Notes: Thank you to everyone who reviewed the previous chapter, it inspired me to get this done a bit quicker than anticipated. You guys are awesome!_

_Please, as always, let me know what you think. gasp No cliffhanger this time. No beta either, so all mistakes are my own._

_Jenny_

_Chapter Four:_

Sara's heart plummeted into her stomach and she shut her eyes, taking a deep breath to steady her trembling nerves. She allowed her head to be jerked back by a handful of hair, wincing slightly as her assailant hissed, "I don't want any funny business, do you understand me?"

Sara nodded slightly in response, letting her gear fall to the ground as he roughly pulled her to her feet, his sour breath warm on her cheek. The flashlight she had been holding in her mouth fell noiselessly to the floor, sending the room from dimly lit to pitch black in just seconds. Whimpering slightly, Sara allowed the man to slowly push her closer to the doorway. She had to think of something, figure out some way to get this guy apprehended without anyone being hurt.

She briefly shut her eyes once more, taking another steadying breath. She was trained, she was smart, she could get out of this mess. It wasn't the first time she had a gun pointed at her, she could get through this alive and uninjured if she could keep her wits about her.

She needed something to distract him.

She could hear Greg's voice nearing the house, and through teary eyes she began to pray that he wouldn't enter the house, that he wouldn't come into harm's way. If she tried to escape and got herself injured, she could live with that. If her fight with her attacker got Greg injured, there was no way she'd ever forgive herself.

She had never been lucky.

The door opened and Greg walked in, immediately feeling the tension in the air. Through the darkness, he could see the shiny metal of the suspect's gun, and within seconds, his own weapon was drawn, "Freeze! Put your weapon down, sir, and no one will be hurt."

Sara felt her breath catch in her throat as her captor's grip slacked slightly, surprised by the other man's entrance. Seizing the opportunity, Sara elbowed the man in the ribs, swooping to the floor as he released her to grab her abandoned flashlight. Kneeing the doubled-over man, she brought the heavy Mag-lite down on his head, panting heavily as she tried to back away.

From the floor, he grabbed her ankle, pulling her back to his reach as he heavily breathed, "That was a stupid, stupid mistake."

"Let her go!" Greg said firmly, taking a step closer to the pair, his gun still trained at the suspect, "I won't shoot you if you let her go."

"Well, I won't shoot herif you turn around and leave right now." The other man replied, tightly pressing the gun to Sara's head, "Didn't I tell you 'no funny business', little girl?"

Sara tried to wiggle out of his grasp, but he only held on to her tighter, "Let me go, you crazy punk!"

"Now is that any way to talk to the person who has your life in his hands?" Her assailant chastised, "Or would you like it if I shot your friend first, then came back for you?"

"Leave him alone!" Sara screamed, clawing and pushing at the man's hands, "Greg, please, go outside. I'll be okay."

"I'm not going to leave you here with this guy!" Greg retorted incredulously, "Are you insane?"

"Think about Angelle, the baby," Sara pleaded tearfully, "Save yourself, don't worry about me."

Greg remained silent for a moment, his hands trembling as he tried to keep his focus in the darkness, "Sara, I told you, there is no baby. I'm not going to sacrifice you just to save my own skin."

"This really isn't the time to argue with me." Sara cried out, "He's letting you go, just go!" The gun dug into her clammy skin and she found herself unable to stop her tears from spilling onto her cheeks, "Greg, please, I won't let you die."

"Like I will?" Greg snapped, taking a step closer to the pair, "Sir, drop your weapon right now, or I will shoot."

The room was perfectly still and silent for just a moment until Sara tilted her head forward, then rapidly brought it back, head-butting her captor. As his grip on her lessened, she brought her foot back as well, desperately trying any move she could think of to bring this guy down.

In the dark chaos, two gunshots rang through the small room, followed by a chilling silence.

--

"I know! I know!" Angelle snapped into the phone, "I'm working on it, okay?"

"Girl, all I'm sayin' is that you not movin' as fast as you should be." Alcide's thick voice drawled, "Time's a-wastin' Angie-baby, you've been with the kid fo' months now and not so much as a checking account number. Make your move, child, or get out."

"I told you I'm working on it!" Angelle snapped, slamming the cell phone shut with an angry sigh. Working on it. Right. She hadn't even figured out a good way to convince Greg she was pregnant yet. She knew she was running out of valuable time, with each day that passed, the less likely he was to believe that she was carrying his child. Face it, he probably wouldn't believe her anyway, it had been months since that fiery night in Texas, he'd see right through this flimsy plan.

She had never come across a man she couldn't fool. Of course, she had also never come across a man such as Greg. He was kind, caring, considerate, passionate, funny, charming...she could list his qualities for days and never run out of positive words to use. It was so rare to find a man like that, and the idea of using him as a pawn in her uncle's twisted money scheme sent pangs of remorse through her normally cold heart.

Of course, she couldn't admit that to Alcide, or he'd turn on her. No man was worth the wrath of Alcide scorned. He not only knew the old adage about concealing bodies in the swamps until the alligators are them, he practiced it...although he did believe that crabs in Lake Pontchartrain did a much better job of destroying bodies than swamp gators did.

Running her hands through her dark hair, she closed her eyes, stifling a yawn. She had to do something...either she had to continue poisoning Greg or she had to move back home and find a new target. She picked up the coaster her drink had been resting on and tossed it across the room, scowling when it didn't even make it to the wall she had intended to hit. She wasn't supposed to have feelings for him, she wasn't supposed to fall in love with him. How come things never seemed to go according to plan around this man?

She jumped off the couch, retrieving the coaster and setting it back on the table. She had to focus. She could do this, it wasn't the first time she had developed feelings for her target...it was just the first time her feelings enabled her to overthrow the whole plan.

Angelle couldn't let her family down, she couldn't let Alcide down. If she didn't come back with the money, it was likely Alcide would not only go after her, but Greg as well. She couldn't let thathappen. There had to be a way to save both of their skin.

She looked down at her bare, empty abdomen...she had to try to convince him. The worst he could do would be to not believe her, and then she could always go back to Alcide and say she tried...she had a high track record to prove her capability, he couldn't fault her for one that would get away. If at first you don't succeed...find a new target. If he didn't believe her, if he left her, she'd just have to find some other, more gullible, man.

She laid down on the couch, pulling out her cell phone and flipping it open. In order to pull this off, she'd have to call in a few old favors. She just hoped it would be worth it.

"Stacey? This is Angelle...are you still working at the Women's Hospital?"

--

"Sara? Can you hear me? Sara?"

Sara's eyes blinked open briefly, but snapped back closed once assaulted by the bright lights overhead. She moaned softly, trying to turn but finding herself immobilized. Slowly opening her eyes once more, she tried to focus on the blurry objects around her.

"Sara? That's my girl, stay awake."

The world moved beneath her, shadows overhead, but over the beeping and the talking, all she could make out was Greg's clear, concerned voice. This couldn't be right, she had to be dreaming. Greg hadn't used that tone of voice on her since...well...since before he moved to Texas. She made an attempt to lift her throbbing head, but instead a warm hand brushed over her forehead, Greg's soft voice meeting her ears once more.

"No, no. Stay still for now. Do you remember what happened?"

How could she forget it? Some psychopath had her at gunpoint and they were fighting for the gun when it went off. As the memory flooded back to her, her eyes widened and she started to struggle against the restraints holding her down. Was she shot? Was Greg shot? Where was their attacker? What was going on? This definitely wasn't the crime scene. What was going on?

"Shh, calm down Sara, calm down. You're going to be okay. We're bringing you to the hospital right now, but you should be fine...you did great, just hurt your arm a bit. Just try to lay back and relax, I'm right here with you."

Sara wanted to ask questions, she wanted to know more, but her eyes felt too heavy to keep them open any longer. With Greg's warm hand touching her colder one, she let her eyes close. There would be plenty of time for questions later. Right now, she just wanted to enjoy his warmth, his closeness.TBC


	5. Shattered

_Author's Notes: Thank you to everyone who's been reading and reviewing. Reviews tend to make me go a little easier on the characters. No cliffhanger this time, I trust you'll still hit that little button to tell me what you thought. Lol. My writing thrives off of your reviews. _

_This is probably the last chapter I'll have out before I leave next week to go on vacation, but I'm going to try my hardest for another one this weekend. No promises. Reviews do help the process along. But regardless, I'm enjoying this story right now, so I'll try to get an update before I go. If I don't, I'll be back in town on July 11th, and I'll try to get something done that week. I will have two full days of plane trips ahead of me, so I may bring my laptop and try to get something accomplished on one of those flights, assuming my daughters allow it. _

_Hope you enjoy it!_

_Jenny _

**Chapter Five:**

Greg fumbled with his apartment keys as he reached the top of the steps, stifling a groan when he noticed the lights were still on. Angelle was going to pitch a fit when she found out he was going back to the hospital to sit with Sara, and he had been hoping beyond all hope that his feisty roommate was already sleeping. He had never been that lucky.

As he slid his key into the lock, he could hear her pain-inducing singing voice filtering through the walls, and he cringed slightly. He was exhausted, this was the last place he wanted to be, and when the woman sang, it sounded like a thousand cats screeching to be freed.

_I don't like golf, I don't like swimming...I just like chasing, them big butt women...We gonna do that butt thing..._

Greg shook his head as the lock slid open. She couldn't even pick a good song to warble out, she had to pick some backwoods song from back home. He suddenly found himself unable to tell what was worse, her singing of the lyrics of the song she had chosen.

He pushed the door open, making a beeline for the bedroom while ignoring Angelle's presence all together. With any luck, he'd be in and out before she even noticed he was home. All he needed was a few changes of clothes, and the essentials from his bathroom. He could only assume that with the injured arm and high dosage of pain medication she was bound to receive, Sara may need a bit of help getting back on her feet once released. He had always been there for her now, and as troubled as their relationship had been, he couldn't let her down now.

He couldn't explain the surge of emotions he had experienced since he had walked in to find Sara being held at gunpoint. He had spent so much time convincing himself that he resented Sara, that he had no romantic feelings for her whatsoever. Seeing her so vulnerable, so easily expendable, had opened his eyes to realize that he had been completely wrong. He may not love her as he used to, but something besides anger resided in his heart. He wasn't sure what it was, but he knew he had to be by her side at a time like this.

He had stayed at the hospital long enough to get an update on her condition, the bullet had shattered against her humerus bone, fracturing the bone while fragments of the bullet embedded deep in the tissue. After assessing her damages in the trauma room, they had taken her back for immediate surgery.

Doing quick math in his head, he decided he had just enough time to rush home, get some clothes, and make it back before they were finished. He just hoped Angelle didn't delay his return. He had just zipped up his bag when she appeared in the doorway, her face wrought with concern, "Pigeon? Why are you packing?"

"There was a shooting at a crime scene tonight," Greg replied distractedly, slipping his wallet back into his pocket while he grabbed his keys, "I'm in kind of a hurry?"

"Are you skipping town? Have you done something wrong?" Angelle asked, her eyes lighting up with excitement, "Can I come too?"

Greg shook his head impatiently, "No, no. It's nothing like that, I just need to head down to the hospital to help out. I'll be back."

"It was Sara, wasn't it?" Angelle asked softly, reaching out to touch Greg's arm, "I don't know why you keep doing this to yourself. The two of you are in the past, you need to move towards the future, sugar."

Greg shrugged off her hand, slinging his bag over his shoulder, "She's my friend, she needs some help. I need to get back quickly, I don't have time for this."

"I can't let you go back there just to get your heart trampled on again! I care about you too much to let you do that to yourself!" Angelle insisted, blocking the dooway, "Besides, I need you here with me."

Greg pushed past her, growling with frustration when she followed him into the hallway, "What is your problem, Angie! Sara is one of my closest friends, I need to be there with her. Whatever you need can't possibly be that important right now!"

Before she could argue for him to stay, he had stormed out the front door, slamming it roughly behind him. He wasn't in the mood to play one of her games, to listen to her tell him how awful his colleagues were, how he could _only_ trust her. There were more important things going on, and it wouldn't be fair to Sara for her to wake up in a hospital room, alone.

She had been so selfless at the crime scene, begging him to sacrifice her to save himself. Thinking about he and Angelle and their child before her own life. He froze at the bottom of the stairs, his eyes widening. Their child. Tossing his bag to the ground, he raced back up the stairs. Before he could go back to Sara, there was something he had to clear up.

He opened the front door with a slam, barging into the living room with a cold look on his face, "We need to talk."

"You came home!" Angelle exclaimed, obviously relieved that he was back, "I knew you'd see it my way. Sara's only out to hurt you, I wouldn't be surprised if she arranged--"

"Are you pregnant?" Greg demanded, staring into Angelle's eyes, "Are you?"

Angelle fell silent, the lie caught in her throat. She wanted to tell him that she was, she wanted to go ahead with the plan, but she couldn't bring herself to form the words. His face was set in tension, his eyes tired and weary. She diverted her eyes to the floor before replying, "I--"

"Save it. I'm gone." Greg replied tiredly, shaking his head furiously. Her hesitation was all he needed to prove she was lying. He walked back to the door, pausing with his hand on the doorknob, "I'll be back later for my things. I'll call first, I'd appreciate it if you weren't here."

He slammed the door shut behind him, leaving Angelle alone to succumb to her tears.

--

Greg made it back to the hospital in record time, dashing to the nurses station to get word on Sara's condition, relieved to find she now resting comfortably in her own room. Getting the room number from the nurse, he moved towards the elevators, taking a deep breath and slowly releasing it. So much had happened in the last few hours, he was finding it extremely overwhelming.

As the elevator slowly made it's way to Sara's floor, the relief he had felt was now being suppressed by anxiety as he realized he had no clue what he was going to say to her. He had been thinking on autopilot the entire time, only knowing that he belonged by her side, he hadn't taken the time yet to decide how to make that happen. What if he got there and she was less than interested in him? If she kicked him to the curb, where would he go? He had just implied to Angelle that he was moving out, he had no family in town, no friends left to go to. Sara was his only option.

The dull ache that had resided in his head for the last few hours soared rapidly into a persistent jabbing as he stepped off the elevator, staring at the sign on the wall. He could do this, he could put one foot in front of the other and make his way to her door. He could push it open and ask her to talk. He could sit down and take her hand in his, apologize for the way he left, for calling her a liar, for always assuming the worst.

Or could he?

His mind raced with the possibilities of her reaction. She could be relieved that he finally came to his senses, happy to have his company. Or she could be angry and resentful, hurt by his accusations, scarred by his irresponsibility over the last year. She could tell him that she was in love with Nick, or that she wasn't in the mood for any sort of relationship. She could tell him that she hated him so much that she didn't even want to be his friend. The possibilities were endless.

"You have to try, you can do this." he whispered to himself, "You owe it to her."

"Talking to yourself now?" A familiar voice spoke up from behind him, "She's asked about you, you know. She's worried that you were hurt."

Greg spun around to come face to face with Catherine, who wore an expression of deep concern, "You look like death warmed over."

"Thanks." Greg replied dryly, "She's awake?"

Catherine nodded with a smile, "Already terrorizing the nursing staff, demanding to be released. I think she's too high on pain meds to know what a brat she's being, but let's just say that she's lucky she has this nice nursing staff at her beck and call, and not me, because we'd be fighting."

"She always did make a difficult patient." Greg remarked with a smirk, "How is she?"

Catherine smiled warmly, leading him down the corridor towards Sara's room, "They don't think she'll have any lasting damage to her arm, they've removed the bullet fragments that showed up on x-ray, they've had to put pins in her arm to get the bones stabilized. She's heavily medicated, sort of groggy, but she'll be okay."

"Permanent damage?" Greg asked worriedly, glancing towards the wooden door that would reveal him to Sara. He bit his lip nervously, his heart pounding wildly. He had never been this nervous around Sara, but tonight it just _felt_ different.

Catherine shrugged lightly, pushing down the door handle, "We'll have to wait and see, but her doctor's pretty optimistic. Warrick's in with her now, but we need to get back to work, so we'll leave you two alone."

"Grissom didn't show up?" Greg asked curiously, "I thought for sure--"

"He's been here, but he had to get down to the crime scene you two were working on...he didn't trust anyone else to process." Catherine replied, "Nicky hasn't stopped by...I'm not sure if he will or not."

Greg shrugged slightly, "I'm sure he will. Even if they're not getting along, we're all a family."

"That's right." Catherine agreed, walking ahead of Greg into the room, "Hey Sara, look who I found in the hallway."

"Greg." Sara breathed heavily, her face mixed with elation and apprehension, "You came."

"Where else would I be?"

_TBC_


	6. Empty

_Author's Notes: Wow, this story still exists! Who knew? Lol. This one goes out to Emmithar, who constantly reminds me that this story does, indeed, exist somewhere on my hard drive, and for driving me to write (usually in the same breath that she tells me to stop working so hard and get some sleep). Usually she serves not only as my muse, but my beta as well, but tonight I was too impatient to wait. So, SURPRISE EMMITHAR!...and to the rest of you, I apologize in advance for my inevitable mistakes._

_I also have to give a shoutout of sorts to Kegel, who sent me the funniest email the other day and got this story stuck in my mind. Without those two girls, I'd be...well...not writing nearly as much, if at all. _

_Also to everyone who is still reading, and who is thoughtful enough to review...they really keep me going, and with the right amount of persuasion, I'll continue soon. :D. No, that's not a bribe...-shifty eyes-..._

_Jenny_

**Chapter Six:**

Just when he thought he was getting his life back in control, Greg found himself earnestly wishing he had never met Angelle Orgeron. He had thought he could trust her, she was the only one he had been able to turn to after he and Sara had drifted apart, and it turns out his trust had been based on a lie. A gigantic lie that seemed to get more and more complex the deeper he dug.

At first, he had been too upset to even think about her. Sara was recovering from her injuries, he had stayed the night with her, and they had spent a long time talking about their past. They weren't back together, by any means, but at least they were starting to build their friendship back piece by broken piece. She was released after two days, and being the stubborn woman she was, she insisted he go back to his apartment instead of trailing her home.

There was no denying he had been disappointed, he had hoped they were on the path of rekindling their past chemistry. He couldn't help but remember the car accident that caused them to bond, as he cared for her in his home during, and after, her recovery. It seemed like ancient history now, but in light of their current predicament, he had almost assumed they would use this opportunity to grow closer. Instead, she had let Catherine take her back to her empty apartment, leaving Greg to deal with the one thing he had been avoiding for days.

He slid his key into the lock, taking a deep breath before turning the latch. With any luck, she'd be sleeping or shopping, not waiting in the shadows like a cat about to pounce.

Greg could feel the change the moment he walked into the apartment, although he couldn't see with the heavy drapes pulled shut. Fumbling for the light switch, he fought a chill that ran down his spine. Angelle enjoyed keeping the apartment dark, maybe the total blackness meant she wasn't home. The lights flickered on, casting a dim light against the dingy yellow walls.

The keys fell from his hands as his breath caught in his throat. The entire apartment was empty, wiped clean of any trace that he used to live there. Taking a step back, he glanced at the number on the door. This was definitely his apartment, so where was all of his stuff?

In a slight panic, he flung open the bedroom door, groaning when he realized not even a poster was left on his wall. The door stoppers were even missing from the molding. He wasn't sure if he should laugh or cry, how ironic was this? He had told her to get out...but he hadn't meant with all of _his_ stuff. He slowly made his way to the kitchen, sighing heavily as he laid his keys on the counter. Well, at least he had a place to live. Furniture was replaceable, and if everything was gone, that meant Angelle was gone with it. His Papa Olaf had always reminded him that in every bad deed, something good was hidden. This was proving to be no different. While he felt horrible that he had been stupid enough to trust Angelle, even after being told countless times that she was a deceitful tramp, he couldn't help but see this as a hidden opportunity to edge his way back into Sara's life.

He pulled out his cell phone, scrolling through his call list until he found the number for his bank. The least he could do was get some shopping in before the furniture stores closed. He waited for the automated system to pick up, then hastily dialed his account number and pin number. As the flat, female voice spoke his account balance into his ear, his legs began to shake, sending him sliding to the floor as he pressed "one" to repeat his account information.

There was no way.

It couldn't be.

But as the same stoic female voice repeated the same bleak words, Greg felt his stomach sink. Things were now shifting from bad to worse. Redecorating his apartment was one thing...but doing it with absolutely no money? That would prove to be a bit harder.

A knock on the door brought him from his thoughts, but he remained on the floor, still deep in shock. What else could go wrong?

"Mr. Sanders? Miss Ogeron? This is Blake Hastley." The voice called through the door, "Are you home?"

Greg moaned softly, leaning his head back against the counter. Today was the 10th, the last day to pay the rent, and he sincerely doubted that Angelle had been kind enough to pay it before walking out on him. With a wry smile, he briefly wondered what Ecklie would do if he asked for an advance on his paycheck.

"Mr. Sanders? Miss Ogeron? I know you're in there, I heard one of you come in!" Blake shouted, ending it with a hacking cough, as a result of years of heavy smoking, "If you don't have my money for me by 8 pm, you can start moving out tomorrow morning."

Listening as Blake stomped down to his own apartment, Greg couldn't help but laugh. What was he going to do? What _could_ he do? It's not as if his landlord would understand the trouble with his manipulative ex-roommate, he had been against them getting an apartment together to begin with, deeming their cohabitation "living in sin". And even if he could get the money for rent, what good would an apartment do him without a bed? Clothing? Blankets? He had officially reached the bottom.

Forcing himself off the floor, he move towards the fridge. With any luck, she had at least left him a beer, at the very least, a soda. He flung open the door, cursing lightly as he noticed the lone bottle of water sitting on the top shelf. Shaking his head bitterly, he grabbed the bottle, taking a swig and making a face as he noticed the strong lemon flavoring. It would stand to reason that he'd get stuck with a bottle of flavored water, possibly his least favorite beverage--right below urine on his list of pleasurable beverages.

Grabbing his keys with a resigned sigh, he took one look at his empty apartment and walked towards the doorway. Maybe he still had a chance to turn this into something positive.

--

Sara sank onto her couch, a frown creasing her forehead as she stared at the yellow slip of paper she had been discharged with. Even after two days to mull over the news, she still couldn't believe it. It had been a long month since she and Nick had gotten into the blow-out fight that had ended their relationship, and while she had never really loved him, she still hated the way things had turned out. Especially now that there was someone else involved.

She let her hand drop to her abdomen, whispering softly, "I swear I won't screw this up for you."

She couldn't really say the signs weren't there, but at the time she had attributed them to stress, never once thinking of the reproductive possibilities of her irritability and fatigue. She couldn't deny that this only complicated matters further.

She and Greg had spent a lot of time reacquainting themselves during her hospital stay, and she had to admit that they were definitely on their way to rebuilding some sort of shadow of the life they had once shared together. Sure, they were a long way from dating, but she was finally starting to feel like she could relax a bit with someone she had once considered her soul mate.

Sara knew she had hurt him when she refused to let him bring her home, but she couldn't risk him finding out about the baby, not right now, not when their newfound friendship was still so fragile. They had both changed so much, she was still testing the waters, so to speak, making sure she wouldn't accidentally do or say something to set him off. Day by day it was getting easier, but they still had so far to go.

A knock on the door tore her from her thoughts, and in a moment of panic, she shoved the discharge slip into the couch cushion before moving towards the door.

"Greg!" She exclaimed softly as she opened the door, "What's wrong? You look awful, are you okay?"

Greg nodded, following Sara into her apartment with a frown, "I, uh, need a place to stay for a few days...until payday, at least."

"Angelle didn't move out?" Sara asked softly, knowing Angelle still remained a taboo subject for both of them, "I thought--"

"Oh, she moved out." Greg replied with a bitter laugh, "She moved out with every dime from my bank account and every...well, every_thing_ that I own...owned." He sank onto the couch, rubbing his temples fiercely, "She took everything from the apartment...she left, like, one lightbulb and that's it. I have no idea where she is, I don't even know where to look. Rent was due by today, and I have no money to pay it, nor do I have the desire to keep living in the projects. I just need a place to crash until payday, then I'll think of something."

Sara sat beside him, rubbing his arm gently, "Oh, Greg, of course. Stay as long as you need, you're always welcome here, you know that."

"I...I don't know what to do." Greg admitted in a shaky voice, "I feel like the world's stupidest person. How could I have not seen what she was? What she was capable of? She lied to me, used me, then tossed me to the curb like last week's trash! When did I become so gullible?"

Sara wrapped her good arm around him, laying her head on his shoulder, "You aren't stupid, and you aren't gullible. You thought you could trust her, she made you think you could trust her. She's a professional, Greg, remember that report Catherine had ran? It was legit."

"Why didn't I listen to you? I should have known better..."

"Of course you should have," Sara teased softly, "But when you really care about someone, you tend to ignore their faults. That doesn't make you a fool, it makes you human. You are a great guy, Greg, and she took advantage of that. You aren't to blame, she is."

They sat in silence for a moment before Sara whispered, "Did you call the police?"

"And tell them what? My roommate, whom I had given complete access to my records, stole all of my money and possessions? Do you know the clearance rate for theft? What is it, 13 percent?" Greg questioned, "It won't do any good anyway, she's probably long gone by now, having a good laugh at my expense."

Sara sighed, resting her head on his shoulder once more as she tried to think of the right thing to say. As much as she wanted to rub it in that she had warned him, she knew it was pointless, he already felt bad enough about being duped, to remind him that she had predicted this would only be rubbing salt in an open wound.

She squeezed his hand, murmuring softly, "You're shaking."

"I'm angry." Greg retorted, "I want to get my hands on that little tramp, and--"

Sara shook her head, squeezing his hand gently, "Criminal Intent, Greg...don't even say it."

"You were thinking it too."

"Well, of course, but I'm not going to say it and incriminate myself, am I?" Sara retorted, glancing at Greg's pale face, "Greg, you don't look well."

"It's been a long day." Greg replied softly, his eyes growing heavy. He had been fighting a cold, perhaps a flu bug, since recovering from pneumonia months ago, and he had been certain it was going away...now, he discovered it was only an illusion, as the night progressed, the weaker he felt. "I just need a good, long nap."

Sara nodded, standing and motioning towards the hallway, "I'll get you set up in my room."

"No, no, you're recovering from surgery, you need to sleep in your bed. I'm fine on the couch." Greg insisted weakly, coughing softly, "I'm already putting you out enough by being here--"

Sara shook her head firmly, "Nonsense, you go lay down in my room, and I'll take the couch. Really, I prefer the couch. You aren't putting me out at all."

She extended her hand to Greg, motioning for him to rise, "Come on, you need your rest, you've been through a lot."

"Says the one who just got home from the hospital."

"That's just a few stitches and broken bones...you need some mental rest, sweetie." Sara replied gently, "Don't fight with me, just let me take care of you."

Greg rose, nodding weakly as he followed her into the hallway, "Thanks Sara, you've been--"

He stopped, his hand moving to his forehead as he leaned against the wall, his face paling rapidly.

"Are you okay?" Sara questioned, grabbing his arm, "Greg? What's wrong?"

Nothing could have prepared her to catch the man as he collapsed into her arms, his body limp and his skin ice cold, sending them both toppling to the floor with a thud.

_TBC_


	7. Questions

_Author's Notes: Yay! An update! I loved reading your comments for chapter six, so please feel free to keep them coming. :D. Feedback makes for fast chapters of not only this, but my other stories as well. Thanks for reading!_

_Also a shout-out to Kegel who inspired me with insane Greg-Fannysmacking-Babble yesterday, and enlightening conversation today that makes me happy to live where I do. :D. If you haven't read her fics, check them out, she's an awesome Sandle writer. _

_Also to Emmithar, who makes me want to write just by how happy she gets when she finds out I -am- writing. I'd probably be doing homework right now if it wasn't for her. Lol. _

_Jenny_

**Chapter Seven:**

Sara paced anxiously around the waiting room, wringing her hands in nervous anticipation of the doctor's arrival. Greg had been taken back to an examination room nearly three hours prior, and she still knew nothing.

It wasn't the first time she had paced this room, it was so familiar that without looking she could tell you every crack, every stain, and every scratch from one white wall to the next, from the aging ceilings to the worn floor. She had sat in the chair near the fake plant while she had given a statement to Brass about a shooting both she and Greg had been a part of. She had tread the tiles near the window for hours after Greg had been attacked in the park, not knowing anything and scared to death. Now, her shoes clicking with each step she took, she felt just as helpless.

She was so tied up in her own thoughts and worries that she didn't hear footsteps approaching until someone placed their hand on her shoulder. Spinning around, she came face to face with a distraught Catherine, "We came as fast as we could."

Sara glanced behind the blonde to see a weary Warrick holding a sleeping Lyle. With a weak smile, she motioned towards the double doors, "They haven't told me anything."

Catherine led Sara to a chair, sitting down beside her friend and waiting for the brunette to continue. After exhaling a shaky breath, Sara whispered, "One minute he was fine, the next he was falling into my arms. I've never seen anything like it before, something has to be seriously wrong."

"Have you heard anything?"

Sara shook her head, a couple of stray tears spilling onto her cheek, "Not yet. I tried to get some information from the nurse, but she's possibly the least helpful person I've ever come across...thank you for coming, I was going crazy here, alone."

"Greg's practically family...I've known him since he was a bratty rookie. Where else would I be?" Catherine asked softly, squeezing Sara's hand, "This has got to be hard for you."

Sara wiped the tears from her cheeks, drawing in a shaky breath, "No matter how hard I try to figure out exactly what sort of game Greg and I have been playing, I can't seem to get any answers. I just want to be happy again...is that such a hard request?"

"When you've got someone as stubborn as you and Greg? What the two of you need is a long, honest, deep conversation. It's clear that he's got feelings for you, and I know you have feelings for him...you just need to lay your cards on the table and see what you can come up with." Catherine replied, patting the younger woman's hand, "Never underestimate the power of communication."

Sara shrugged, her eyes trailing to the floor, "It's not like we haven't tried, but every time we start to work things out, the bottom falls from underneath us and we're left right where we started."

"I'm sorry."

Sara shrugged, falling silent for a few moments before beginning to tap her foot against the tile, her fingers rapping against her knee. Her 8th grade science teacher had always told her she was too impatient, and by the uncontrollable movement, maybe he had been right. Of course, he had also told her that coming from a poorer family, she'd never make it to college...even with intelligent people, there was still room for error.

Her head began to throb, and glancing down at her watch she realized that in the chaos, she had forgotten to eat. She clenched her fists tightly, contemplating whether or not to wait for word on Greg before hitting the vending machines. With a loud sigh, she decided it wasn't fair to starve her unborn child while she possibly waited for hours for news on Greg. Standing, she motioned towards the doorway, glancing from Warrick to Catherine, "Want something from the snack machine?"

Her friends shook their head and she moved towards the doorway, her stomach starting to growl at the idea of food. By nature, she had little appetite, but in the last few days, she had definitely been ravenous. While some may consider it a welcome relief from the morning sickness that was standard in pregnancy, Sara could only obsess that this was one of the first signs that there was a life growing inside of her.

She honestly didn't know whether to laugh or cry. She had never pictured herself a mother, carrying a chid for a man she wasn't even in a relationship with. Then again, she had never expected to be standing in this dingy hospital again, waiting on word about Greg. Things never seemed to turn out like she expected them to.

She pressed the buttons on the machine, waiting for a moment before her fruit snacks fell from the spiral claw and clanked at the bottom of the receptacle. She rubbed her eyes, glancing towards the coffee pot with envy before scanning the soda machine for a healthy alternative. She settled on a can of Sprite and tiredly padded back to the waiting room, all of her energy suddenly drained. Once she knew Greg was okay, she had a certain date with a pillow, blanket, and soft surface. As she stifled a yawn, she reasoned that any one of those three would suffice at this moment.

Sinking into a chair next to Warrick, she let her eyes close, her makeshift meal forgotten. Within moments she was sleeping so deeply that she didn't even hear the doctor enter the waiting room to deliver his report.

--

"You must have a season pass or something...or is it something like 'stay twice, get one night free'?" Catherine teased lightly, slowly pushing open the door to enter Greg's room, "You gave us quite a scare."

Greg turned his head towards the doorway, disappointment evident on his face as he saw Catherine. With a shrug, he glanced towards the ceiling, "You know me, I can never resist a free meal."

"I actually thought you were just trying to use up a sick day at work." Catherine jabbed playfully, "I know you were expecting Sara, but she's sleeping with Warrick." Upon seeing Greg's shocked expression, Catherine added quickly, "In the waiting room. She fell asleep on Warrick's shoulder. Lyle's on the other...does your mind always jump straight into the gutter?"

"No abusing the ill." Greg replied with a laugh, his eyes growing slightly dark with concern, "How is she holding up?"

"You're the one in the hospital, Greg." Catherine reminded him, "She was doing well when we arrived, worried, but well. Don't worry about her, worry about getting better."

Greg nodded, shaking his head bitterly, "I can't believe this is happening."

"I know...the doctor was shaky with the details, care to give me the 'full-text' version?" Catherine asked, pushing a strand of hair from Greg's face, "You look like crap."

Greg smirked, "Thanks Cath, you look like a million bucks." Shifting slightly, he exhaled slowly, bringing his weary eyes to meet Catherine's concerned baby blues, "There was some sort of poison in my blood stream. I've been feeling bad off and on for a few months now...they're still trying to determine exactly what it was, they know it's something herbal, just not exactly what it was and where it came from. Doctor says that there's a buildup of it, though, like I've been ingesting it for months." He laughed, "I've been eating these organic eggs, bought them from a neighbor...they're probably cracked out or something."

Catherine's gaze narrowed as she questioned, "What about your girlfriend? Didn't she deal with herbs and stuff?"

"I hardly believe Angelle was out to kill me." Greg replied, pausing for a moment before laughing bitterly, "Rob me blind, maybe, but not kill me."

"She does have a record, you know--"

A knock on the door sounded, and Catherine glanced back to see Brittany from day shift, along with Brass, standing in the doorway, "Sorry to interrupt...but I was told to treat this as a criminal case until we can prove otherwise...I need to ask Greg some questions."

"Sure Brittany, Jim." Catherine replied with a warm smile. Turning back to Greg, she ruffled his hair gently, "I'm going to go wake up Sara, I'm sure she'll be excited to see you."

Greg watched as Catherine exited the room, then turned his attention to Brass and Brittany, his voice hard, "I can name a suspect for you."

--

Sara shifted slightly in her chair, mumbling something too soft for both Warrick and Catherine to hear as Catherine entered the waiting room, the door shutting loudly behind her.

"They're treating it as an investigation." Catherine informed Warrick, "I called Grissom before going to see Greg, he agrees with me in thinking maybe Angelle had something to do with this."

Warrick nodded, trying to keep his voice down as Sara shifted again, "The woman _was_ crazy. I wouldn't put it past her. How's Sanders?"

"Joking around as if he's being inconvenienced by being here. He looks pretty pale, but even the short time I was in there, he looked like he's getting more color to his cheeks. They flushed him out pretty well, he's going to be tired for awhile, but I think he'll be okay. The first thing he asked about was Sara."

"Figures." Warrick smirked, "They both need to wake up and see what's in front of them."

Catherine shrugged, sitting down across from her husband, "There's a lot of tension, a lot of history between them, it's not as easy as it looks. I, personally, don't want to stand back and watch them destroy themselves again. I hate to see them in so much pain."

"Constantly." Warrick added, "I'm glad we didn't have to go through all of that to end up together."

Catherine nodded, and the room fell silent for a few moments before Lyle started to wail. Warrick moved to quiet him, but not before a startled Sara bolted upright in her seat, gasping, "It's not my baby!"

Catherine looked at Warrick with a smile before turning to Sara, who was just starting to become alert to her surroundings, "Is there something you want to tell us?"

"No." Sara breathed, rubbing her eyes tiredly, her cheeks pink, "Lyle just scared me, that's all."

Warrick shifted Lyle to his other arm, patting the boy on his back, "You calling my boy scary?"

"Shut up." Sara replied, rolling her eyes, "Has there been any news on Greg?"

Catherine gave Sara a warm smile, "He's awake, and asking for you. Brass and Brittany are with him now, but they shouldn't be long."

"Brass? Brittany? That little blonde bimbo from days? What's going on?" Sara asked, suddenly very alert, "What did I miss?"

Catherine motioned towards the doorway, "I'll let Greg fill you in...don't worry, he's going to be fine."

Sara rose to her feet, only to be overcome by a wave of dizziness, causing her knees to buckle and her body to fall back into her seat. With a slight moan, she rubbed her temples, taking a deep breath, "Okay, I'm not going to sleep in these chairs again."

"Are you alright?" Catherine asked, motherly concern taking over as she stood and walked to Sara's hunched over form, "When's the last time you ate something?"

Sara shook her head, her stomach rebelling slightly at the idea of food, "Just got up too fast, don't worry. I was more tired than I thought, I suppose."

Catherine moved her hand to Sara's forehead, but Sara pulled away with a frown, "Seriously, I'm fine, Cath."

"Okay, okay." Catherine relented, "I can't help it, Warrick's hogging the baby and I just _have_ to mother someone."

Sara laughed, rising to her feet once more, relieved when she was able to maintain the position, "Isn't that why you have two kids?"

"Point." Catherine responded, "Room 315."

"Got it." Sara replied, stifling a yawn as she moved to the doorway. After spending some time with Greg, she definitely had a date with her bed.

She had just reached Greg's room when the door swung open to reveal a somber Brass and Brittany. With a slight grimace, Brass spoke solemnly, "Sara, CSI Davis and I have a few questions to ask you."

_TBC_


	8. Suspicion

_Author's Notes: Yes, It's been ages. Yes, I'm sure none of you are still reading. But I really hope that you are, and that you continue to do so. :D. This chapter is long overdue, and a bit on the short side (although I –did- update two stories in less than 3 hours), but I hope you'll still read it and enjoy it, and of course let me know what you think of it. I had to get this stuff out of the way to push forward to the –good- part of the story. You know what they say, "things can always get worse"….and it wouldn't be right for me not to throw a few curveballs to these two, especially in this series. _

_Raise your hand (or click the review button) and let me know if you're still here. Feedback encourages updates. :D_

_Thanks for reading!_

_Jenny_

**Chapter Eight:**

Brittany closed the heavy wooden door, waiting for Brass to take out a notepad and pen before approaching a confused Sara, "This is strictly informal. I don't want you to feel like we're singling you out or pointing fingers, we just have a few questions that need to be addressed."

"What's going on?" Sara asked, still fighting the fatigue that held her mind in a foggy vice grip "Is this about Greg?"

Brass motioned for Sara to sit, and as she perched anxiously on one of the plastic waiting room chairs, he glanced down at his notepad, "How well did you know Angelle Orgeron?"

"Well enough to know she was trouble." Sara replied bitterly, meeting Brass's weary eyes with her own angry ones, "She was a liar, and a thief. I can only hope she's far away from here."

Brittany spoke up, clearing her throat slightly, "So there was tension between the two of you?"

"You could say that." Sara replied, "Greg Sanders and I used to date, and after we broke up, he moved on with Angelle. There's bound to be some tension. That, combined with her criminal history put us on opposite sides of the fence, so to speak."

Brass jotted a few notes down before asking quietly, "When was the last time you had contact with Angelle?"

"It's been awhile." Sara shrugged, "I try to avoid her as much as possible. A month or two, perhaps? Do we have to do this right now? I'd like to go see Greg, if that's alright."

Sara moved to stand, but Brass held up his hand, "Not so fast, Sara. Were you aware of a domestic dispute between Greg and Angelle?"

Blinking several times, Sara slowly responded, "I don't know if you'd call it a domestic dispute…but I know she took off out of town with all of his stuff. He was pretty pissed, she completely depleted his bank account, his apartment. He came over to my apartment to see if he could stay with me until he got back on his feet, and then he collapsed."

"So this dispute took place today?"

"As far as I know." Sara replied quietly, "Why? What's going on? Does this have anything to do with Greg's illness?"

Ignoring her questions, Brittany cut in, "Besides yourself and Greg, do you know if anyone else had any…troubled….relationships with Angelle?"

"Troubled? What do you mean by that?" Sara questioned, "I don't know who their mutual friends are, but I don't know of her having any enemies among _my_ group of friends. Outside of that, I don't know. What's going on?"

Brittany ignored Sara once more, spitting out, "When was the last time you made contact with Nick Stokes?"

"I…I don't know." Sara stammered, her head starting to throb as she replayed the last few days in her mind, "At the start of the last shift I worked, there was a meeting between he, Greg, Grissom, and I in Grissom's office, I guess that's the last time I saw him."

"And your relationship with CSI Stokes is strained as well?" Brittany asked sharply, her eyes narrowing, "How is the relationship between Nick and Greg?"

Sara's hand moved protectively to her abdomen, her voice trembling slightly as confusion gave way to nervousness, "Strained. They used to be pretty good friends, but Nick and I sort of had a fling after Greg and I broke up, and the relationship didn't end well. There's been a lot of tension between the three of us."

"To your knowledge, does Nick have any close contact with Angelle?" Brass asked, cutting in before Brittany began another string of questions. He tapped his pen against his notepad as Sara's mouth opened and closed a few times, the brunette obviously at a loss for words, "Any contact?"

Sara shook her head, "Not that I know of, but Nick and I have barely been speaking for the last month. I don't know what he does in his spare time. What's going on?"

"Sara, you and I have known each other for a long time, haven't we?" Brass asked quietly, the tone of his voice commanding Sara's brown eyes to meet his own gaze, "We've always been honest and straightforward with each other, haven't we?"

Sara nodded numbly, her mind racing at the possibilities of where this conversation was heading. The questions had jumped from topic to topic so quickly that she was nearly dizzy, and now both Brittany and Brass were looking at her with a mixture of sympathy and suspicion, their voices toned with a slight sense of urgency. Something was happening, and her heart sank as she realized that they wouldn't be questioning her like this if they didn't think she was somehow involved.

"Yes." Sara replied, her voice cracking slightly, "What's going on?"

Brass closed his notebook, glancing at Brittany before turning his attention back towards Sara, "Greg Sanders has accused Angelle Orgeron of drugging him over the course of their relationship. I don't know how much you know of his medical condition, but it looks as if he's been ingesting some sort of poisonous herbal substance. While interviewing Greg, we got a call from dispatch…Angelle Orgeron was found murdered at McCarran, coroner's estimated TOD was sometime during the night last night."

"So why are you questioning me? I was here last night." Sara reminded him, holding up her wounded arm as she tried to digest all they were telling her, "Rebecca was the nurse assigned to me, and she popped in every hour or so to wake me up. Greg was with me all night."

Brass nodded, sighing heavily, "I know you were here, both you and Greg have been accounted for…but we found your ID Badge at the crime scene, as well as some biological evidence that is being processed at the lab as we speak."

"Sara, we think someone's trying to frame you for murder." Brittany spoke quietly, "We just have to find the link connecting you to the victim. It's obviously not Greg…but we have to start here and work our way out."

Sara blinked rapidly, trying to process all of this information as the room began to wobble around her. Murder? Framing? Evidence? Woozily rising, she darted into the bathroom, barely making it before becoming ill.

Brass and Brittany exchanged a glance before being interrupted by a knock on the door. While Brittany went to answer the door, Brass tentatively took a step towards the bathroom, "Are you okay?"

"No." Sara replied, coughing as tears threatened to spill from her tired eyes, "Someone's trying to set me up as a murderer, am I supposed to be okay?"

Brass was silent for a moment before sighing heavily, "We're going to do everything in our power to nail whoever this is. I don't want you worrying about it, you've got a solid alibi. Stay out of trouble, lay low, and this will blow over. Britt and I are going to leave you alone for a bit to compose yourself. When you're feeling better, Greg wants to see you."

Sara mumbled a quiet thanks, barely able to contain her sobs until the door clicked shut behind Brass. Curling into a ball on the floor, she began to sob earnestly, wondering just how bad things could possibly get before they had to start improving.

_TBC_


End file.
